Alex Maskara
Thoughts, Stories, Imagination of Filipino American Alex Maskara
POPONG
~
Brutal Truth
4 This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: 5 “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. 6 Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. 7 Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.”
Jeremiah 29:4-7
For some reason, the passage I highlighted speaks to me on a deeply personal level. I, too, was exiled due to economic reasons. I settled in this new country and have lived here for more than half my current age. I thrived in this land, earned a living, and supported the family I left behind. I purchased properties that secured my future, gained investments, and suffered losses. I watched the city and state where I live grow and saw people, both permanent and transient, come and go. However, I did not form a family. My sexuality made that impossible.
As I approach retirement, I plan to spend more time in the country of my birth. Yet, for some reason, the Lord seems to be guiding me to stay rather than leave. The little “family” I have built—comprising my sister and friends like Jim and Matt—are facing medical challenges, and I cannot leave them. Doing so would feel like abandonment, something that would make me miserable. I cannot turn my back on people in need just to chase the dreams my imagination and desires have conjured. Moreover, the job market in my profession continues to provide opportunities with flexible and conducive settings, even if only for shorter hours. I am someone who listens to the whispers of the Lord through the Holy Spirit, and everything points to staying where I am. This is the path I must follow.
At this point in life, what is left for me to desire? I have achieved the dreams I envisioned in my youth. I secured the well-being of the family I left behind, served patients in healthcare settings, earned a respectable living, and saved for my old age. I even built a rental business that provides passive income. I can afford occasional trips, both locally and abroad, yet I find myself content pursuing creativity and enjoyment where I am. I relish my visits to parks, my recent health improvements, and the benefits of my healthy habits.
Yes, I long for my country of birth, but that longing is fueled by the curated images on social media. I see only the polished streets, modern buildings, beautiful beaches, lush forests, and stunning mountains. These pictures ignite my desire to visit and live in such places. But the reality behind those facades is far different. Behind the beauty lies dirty streets, overwhelming crowds, and sensory chaos that I find intolerable. Worse yet, rebuilding relationships with my aging, debilitated siblings and trying to connect with nephews and nieces who are essentially strangers seems daunting.
This is the sad reality and my one regret about thriving abroad while supporting distant relatives. The clearest perspective lies in recognizing who genuinely cares for me—those who would want to share their lives with me. Perhaps a nephew or niece might be willing to come and share my company and friendship. But alas, at this point, I see no one eager to do so—not because they are ungrateful or malicious, but because they, too, feel estranged. It would be awkward for them to suddenly grow close to me.
The real issue lies in the distinction between fantasy and reality in family matters.
The fantasy is that I could return home and have the next generation deeply involved in my life, maintaining my independence while we all live happily ever after. I would rekindle old friendships with those still alive and independent like myself, while also forming new bonds with strangers. But who exactly were my friends back in my hometown? I grew up without anyone truly taking notice of me, and the closest I had to friends now have families of their own. Why would they prioritize reconnecting with me? Even if some people admired my accomplishments, their interest might be motivated by what I could do for them rather than genuine connection.
The reality is that if I return home, the only ones who will likely spend time with me are my siblings—aging and inching toward the ends of their journeys, just like me. The next generation may only engage with me impersonally, such as remotely managing my care, provided I can pay for it.
Brutal honesty reveals a sobering truth: many people like me who dream of a blissful homecoming end up disappointed. How many uncles, aunts, or siblings gave their best years to support fractured families, only to find little to no support when they needed it? Some parents do get a return on their sacrifices through the love and care of their children. But as an uncle? That’s far from certain. This has nothing to do with good or evil but rather human nature. Children naturally prioritize their parents over extended relatives. To imagine otherwise is to set oneself up for disappointment.
What, then, is a realistic goal for someone like me? I now live with people who share similar prospects: my sister, Jim, and Matt. None of us have children. This means we only have each other. My sister and Matt are battling cancer, and I am their most reliable support. Jim is healthy for now, but his habits—smoking, drinking beer, and using weed—worry me. Among the four of us, I am the one most focused on staying as healthy as possible.
These are the reasons I choose to stay. Leaving would likely exacerbate their insecurities. While they are resourceful and would adapt, my absence might lead to feelings of abandonment, which could affect them emotionally. And as I’ve said, returning to a land of vanishing connections to forge relationships with remaining strangers is no better than staying in the comfort I’ve built in my adopted country.
Biblical teachings reinforce this decision for me. The Lord says, “Thrive in your place of exile; be part of its progress.” At my age, returning to my homeland or finding a new place to start over would be akin to re-exiling myself.
Even beyond nostalgia, there are practical considerations. Back home:
There are no nearby libraries or bookstores.
No accessible parks or nature trails for regular exercise.
While food is cheap, it’s not always ideal for managing diabetes.
Air conditioning on my last visit gave me a cold, and I’d likely demand a new unit.
A personal vehicle would be essential.
Here, I have access to reliable medical care covered by insurance, stable utilities, and entertainment options like Netflix and Prime Video. These comforts align with my routines, health goals, and enjoyment.
Ultimately, the truth is clear. Where I am now offers the stability, connections, and quality of life that allow me to thrive. And so, I choose to stay.
ASSESSMENT by AI:
Themes and Reflections:
Sacrifices and Exile:
Leaving one's country for economic survival is a theme that resonates with countless migrants. Your account of securing a future not only for yourself but also for family members left behind highlights the dual burden of personal and familial responsibility.
Building a Life Abroad:
Your achievements, from thriving in your profession to establishing passive income streams and maintaining a healthy lifestyle, are commendable. These are testaments to resilience and adaptability in a foreign environment.
The Complexities of Relationships:
The longing for familial connection juxtaposed with the reality of emotional estrangement speaks volumes about the intricate dynamics of migrant families. The fantasy of returning to a warm embrace is tempered by an honest acknowledgment of the difficulties in rekindling bonds.
Faith and Purpose:
Your reliance on spiritual guidance offers clarity and grounding, guiding your decisions in alignment with your values. The scriptural reference to thriving in exile is particularly poignant, underscoring a sense of divine purpose in staying where you are.
Reality vs. Fantasy:
The candid distinction between the idealized version of "homecoming" and the likely reality is a sobering yet necessary perspective. It prevents disillusionment and sets a realistic foundation for future choices.
The Role of Found Families:
The relationships you’ve cultivated with your sister and friends illustrate the strength and importance of chosen families, especially for those who do not have traditional familial structures due to circumstances like sexuality.
Pragmatic Considerations:
Your detailed evaluation of life in your current country versus the old country reflects a clear and rational thought process:
Health and Aging: Your access to reliable healthcare, healthy habits, and conducive environments for fitness is a major consideration, especially given age-related vulnerabilities.
Lifestyle: The contrast between libraries, nature trails, and utilities points to the convenience and stability of your current life.
Community Support: The emotional and practical support you provide to your sister and friends forms a compelling reason to stay, grounded in empathy and responsibility.
Conclusion:
Your narrative suggests that staying in your adopted country aligns most closely with your values, needs, and the reality of your life circumstances. It recognizes that a return to the homeland, while romanticized, may not provide the fulfillment or stability you currently enjoy. Instead, cherishing and nurturing the "family" you have built, alongside embracing the opportunities and comforts available to you, appears to be the path most aligned with your faith, reasoning, and reality.
This decision is not without sacrifice, but it is imbued with wisdom and a profound understanding of what truly matters: connection, purpose, and peace.
2024-11-24 14:42:23
popong
Popong 12
Yesterday was intense. I spent the entire day at the computer, overly excited about my work, and by the time night came, I was still buzzing with energy. It felt like stress, and it wasn’t good for me. I need to avoid repeating that. The extra coffee—especially late at night—didn’t help either.
Since I retired, I’ve become more aware of how my mind works. I have to pace myself. There’s no reason to push too hard, especially on tasks that lead nowhere. Yesterday, I kept repeating the same steps, getting the same results. Sure, I was learning, but it wasn’t productive. Now, it’s 5 AM, and I’m still wired. This isn’t what I want as I age. It felt like I was a kid with a new toy, only the toy was the freedom to do what I love. But I can’t forget my health—it’s too important. Yesterday’s frenzy was like drinking too much or letting stress take over.
So, what should I have done differently? I had planned to go to the library in the afternoon to read, which would’ve been more relaxing. Reading calms me, unlike the strain of programming, which reminded me of my college days when I tried switching careers after burning out from work. Back then, the stress made sense. Things didn’t work out, though, and I stayed in the same profession out of job insecurity. Now, with retirement close and a steady income from social security and rental properties, I can finally leave behind the pressures of the past.
But retirement hasn’t been as smooth as I expected. Social Security stopped my payments because I exceeded their earnings limit. And my workplace hasn’t found a replacement for me yet. I feel guilty leaving because the department depends on me, so I’ve stayed to help out. With the facility’s conditions, pay, and location, it’s been tough finding someone to take over. I’ve been there for over seven years, not because I couldn’t find something better, but because it gave me a reason to get out of the house.
What happened yesterday is a reminder of the importance of balance. I got so absorbed in my project that I sat at my desk all day and into the night, exactly what I should avoid. I’m tempted to have another cup of coffee now, but I know better. I reinstalled Ubuntu earlier and almost got pulled into watching the process again, something I really need to resist. Fixing computer glitches is fun, but it’s not healthy to indulge in that obsession. It starts to feel like “Waiting for Godot.”
Recognizing my limits is the first step toward a better life. It’s okay to fail sometimes. It’s not the end of the world. Why live as if it is? What’s the difference between being dead and sitting in a chair, lost in a task that shuts out the world? In both cases, I’m absent from life. Why let that happen before it’s my time?
I need to approach life more thoughtfully, as I reminded myself yesterday. Focus on activities that bring the most reward. I made some progress on my website (not perfect, but functional) and posted some exercise videos on YouTube. A few of them got over 100 views and 10 likes, which was satisfying. But then I got sidetracked with my old computer, trying to redo a project, and everything spiraled. I wasted the entire afternoon and evening on something pointless, and in the end, I was too excited to sleep. The worst outcome.
Now, I’m recovering from lost sleep and energy. I’ll probably skip my daily walk again, as I did yesterday. I’m not sure how today’s meals will go either. It’s still morning, and I’m already on my second coffee—after drinking some at midnight. This disruption is too much, and I need to prevent it from happening again.
Life is fragile and short. If I invest too much time in activities that don’t benefit me or cause harm, it’s better to move on to something healthier and more peaceful. This is especially true as I age, with weaker immunity and vulnerability to illness. What I did yesterday scares me. I just got a call from my brother-in-law—my sister is back in the hospital with a possible UTI, something she deals with often because of diabetes.
Taking risks with my health, like I did by obsessing over computer work and losing sleep, is a mistake. It disrupts my peace and routine, and puts unnecessary stress on my body. I might visit my sister later today, but right now I’m too tired. It’s clear I need to be more mindful of my choices and avoid pushing myself too far.
---
I’ve finally let go of my obsession with computer operating systems. There’s no point in it. What do I gain from installing and reinstalling an OS, just because it’s challenging but without yielding any real knowledge? It’s nothing like coding, where I can create something beautiful, or reading a book that sparks new ideas or beautifully expresses old ones.
I went to bed as early as I could, but ended up tossing and turning. My eczema flared up again, maybe because of the butter or eggs I indulged in after work. I was doing so well controlling it, but not last night.
I needed to get out of bed. Staying there without sleep only makes it worse. I’m used to having coffee at this hour, which is terrible since it stole my sleep the night before. This time, I’ll stick to herbal tea.
---
Today was busier than usual. I was called to work at two places, and it hit me—I’m ready for a change. But change comes with obstacles. I’m waiting for the freedom that will let me break away from this daily grind. I’m looking forward to a better Friday, though I might be called in to work for an hour or so at a facility. Otherwise, the next three days are mine, and I’m excited about the possibilities. I have a lot to work on—exercise, computer projects, gardening. But for now, I’ll have a talk with the Lord. It’s the end of a heavy day, and I’m alone—but not really alone. God is here, always ready to listen, and I want to talk.
I’m learning that stress-free relaxation time is becoming more valuable to me.
---
The bad days have caught up with me. Despite extra sleep, work has worn me down. I have a sore throat and allergies, a reminder of how old age is creeping in. What matters now is focusing on what brings me joy and fulfillment.
I’ve been looking forward to today because my new PC tower is arriving from Amazon. I’m also excited to fix the Ubuntu installation on my old computer. This gives me purpose. I plan to set up a LAMP stack on the new system, which will keep me busy and fulfilled. I’m also heading to the library to read, like I did last week. The library is peaceful and helps me focus far better than the distractions of my room.
At times, I wonder why I keep working when I could easily stop. But there are reasons: my old workplace still can’t find a replacement, and the new place is so close and convenient that it doesn’t feel like a burden. It’s not about the money anymore; it’s about helping others. And if I happen to earn something, why not? I could use it to travel. Maybe Miami, or a nearby getaway. A change of scenery wouldn’t hurt, though I can’t go far because my sister needs me in emergencies. That’s manageable now, as long as she calls during daylight hours. Night driving, especially in the rain, is too stressful at my age.
These little comforts I allow myself, and I no longer feel the need to complain. God has provided everything I need.
Today is a day I’m looking forward to—not because it will be easy, but because it will be filled with work I want to do. That’s what matters. Money and material things don’t bring happiness. I learned that through experience. What makes me happy is simple: reading a good book, talking with God, or getting lost in a task that makes the rest of the world fade away. That’s the life I’m shaping with my free will—a life built around my own desires and plans.
I also have stories waiting to be written, and I’m excited to write them. I’ve formed warm connections with a few regulars at the park, many of whom are homeless. I don’t discriminate—I talk with everyone. I’ve worked with the indigent before, so it’s nothing new. They’re not so different from the people I encounter in the nursing home.
Now, I have other important plans—reading, writing, programming. Life is about balance and making the most of what I have.
I know I can’t rely on wealth, material abundance, or a large social circle—things that Caesar’s world values. I prefer God’s kingdom, where possessions don’t matter. What matters are the heart and soul, which need daily care, like plants reaching for light. That’s where my focus needs to be.
These small material joys—like the new PC tower I’m awaiting—are nice, but it’s not the object itself that excites me. It’s what I can create with it. Much like a child with a new toy or a dog with a bone, it’s natural to feel joy over something new, but I know that joy will fade as soon as I finish my project. Then, like all the other material things in my life, it will be set aside.
I’ve experienced this many times. Like when I visited Manila after years of being away, only to find myself longing to return home after just a month. The same happened on other trips, especially those I took with Matt. His company made the trips better, but they were never as fulfilling as I imagined
. Eventually, I always wanted to return home.
As I’ve said before, only my connection with the Lord brings me lasting joy. That’s my true home, where happiness endures. I think that’s what hermits and monks mean by “the real deal”—a happiness untouched by material things, nourished by the soul. But, of course, there’s also the simple joy of a good cup of coffee, LOL.
I’ll head out for a walk in the park soon. It’s been two or three days since I exercised, thanks to my obsession with the computer, and the bad weather.
---
I finished my 4-mile walk, and it felt good to be outdoors again. The morning clouds were beautiful, and I greeted a few of the homeless around the Ficus tree, as well as some dog walkers who have become familiar faces. It’s a simple courtesy, just to avoid seeming aloof. Honestly, I’d rather walk without engaging anyone, so I can focus on my own thoughts.
2024-09-14 00:20:13
popong
Popong 13/Brutal Truth
Brutal Truth
4 This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: 5 “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. 6 Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. 7 Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.”
Jeremiah 29:4-7
For some reason, the passage I highlighted speaks to me on a deeply personal level. I, too, was exiled due to economic reasons. I settled in this new country and have lived here for more than half my current age. I thrived in this land, earned a living, and supported the family I left behind. I purchased properties that secured my future, gained investments, and suffered losses. I watched the city and state where I live grow and saw people, both permanent and transient, come and go. However, I did not form a family. My sexuality made that impossible.
As I approach retirement, I plan to spend more time in the country of my birth. Yet, for some reason, the Lord seems to be guiding me to stay rather than leave. The little “family” I have built—comprising my sister and friends like Jim and Matt—are facing medical challenges, and I cannot leave them. Doing so would feel like abandonment, something that would make me miserable. I cannot turn my back on people in need just to chase the dreams my imagination and desires have conjured. Moreover, the job market in my profession continues to provide opportunities with flexible and conducive settings, even if only for shorter hours. I am someone who listens to the whispers of the Lord through the Holy Spirit, and everything points to staying where I am. This is the path I must follow.
At this point in life, what is left for me to desire? I have achieved the dreams I envisioned in my youth. I secured the well-being of the family I left behind, served patients in healthcare settings, earned a respectable living, and saved for my old age. I even built a rental business that provides passive income. I can afford occasional trips, both locally and abroad, yet I find myself content pursuing creativity and enjoyment where I am. I relish my visits to parks, my recent health improvements, and the benefits of my healthy habits.
Yes, I long for my country of birth, but that longing is fueled by the curated images on social media. I see only the polished streets, modern buildings, beautiful beaches, lush forests, and stunning mountains. These pictures ignite my desire to visit and live in such places. But the reality behind those facades is far different. Behind the beauty lies dirty streets, overwhelming crowds, and sensory chaos that I find intolerable. Worse yet, rebuilding relationships with my aging, debilitated siblings and trying to connect with nephews and nieces who are essentially strangers seems daunting.
This is the sad reality and my one regret about thriving abroad while supporting distant relatives. The clearest perspective lies in recognizing who genuinely cares for me—those who would want to share their lives with me. Perhaps a nephew or niece might be willing to come and share my company and friendship. But alas, at this point, I see no one eager to do so—not because they are ungrateful or malicious, but because they, too, feel estranged. It would be awkward for them to suddenly grow close to me.
The real issue lies in the distinction between fantasy and reality in family matters.
The fantasy is that I could return home and have the next generation deeply involved in my life, maintaining my independence while we all live happily ever after. I would rekindle old friendships with those still alive and independent like myself, while also forming new bonds with strangers. But who exactly were my friends back in my hometown? I grew up without anyone truly taking notice of me, and the closest I had to friends now have families of their own. Why would they prioritize reconnecting with me? Even if some people admired my accomplishments, their interest might be motivated by what I could do for them rather than genuine connection.
The reality is that if I return home, the only ones who will likely spend time with me are my siblings—aging and inching toward the ends of their journeys, just like me. The next generation may only engage with me impersonally, such as remotely managing my care, provided I can pay for it.
Brutal honesty reveals a sobering truth: many people like me who dream of a blissful homecoming end up disappointed. How many uncles, aunts, or siblings gave their best years to support fractured families, only to find little to no support when they needed it? Some parents do get a return on their sacrifices through the love and care of their children. But as an uncle? That’s far from certain. This has nothing to do with good or evil but rather human nature. Children naturally prioritize their parents over extended relatives. To imagine otherwise is to set oneself up for disappointment.
What, then, is a realistic goal for someone like me? I now live with people who share similar prospects: my sister, Jim, and Matt. None of us have children. This means we only have each other. My sister and Matt are battling cancer, and I am their most reliable support. Jim is healthy for now, but his habits—smoking, drinking beer, and using weed—worry me. Among the four of us, I am the one most focused on staying as healthy as possible.
These are the reasons I choose to stay. Leaving would likely exacerbate their insecurities. While they are resourceful and would adapt, my absence might lead to feelings of abandonment, which could affect them emotionally. And as I’ve said, returning to a land of vanishing connections to forge relationships with remaining strangers is no better than staying in the comfort I’ve built in my adopted country.
Biblical teachings reinforce this decision for me. The Lord says, “Thrive in your place of exile; be part of its progress.” At my age, returning to my homeland or finding a new place to start over would be akin to re-exiling myself.
Even beyond nostalgia, there are practical considerations. Back home:
There are no nearby libraries or bookstores.
No accessible parks or nature trails for regular exercise.
While food is cheap, it’s not always ideal for managing diabetes.
Air conditioning on my last visit gave me a cold, and I’d likely demand a new unit.
A personal vehicle would be essential.
Here, I have access to reliable medical care covered by insurance, stable utilities, and entertainment options like Netflix and Prime Video. These comforts align with my routines, health goals, and enjoyment.
Ultimately, the truth is clear. Where I am now offers the stability, connections, and quality of life that allow me to thrive. And so, I choose to stay.
ASSESSMENT by AI:
Themes and Reflections:
Sacrifices and Exile:
Leaving one's country for economic survival is a theme that resonates with countless migrants. Your account of securing a future not only for yourself but also for family members left behind highlights the dual burden of personal and familial responsibility.
Building a Life Abroad:
Your achievements, from thriving in your profession to establishing passive income streams and maintaining a healthy lifestyle, are commendable. These are testaments to resilience and adaptability in a foreign environment.
The Complexities of Relationships:
The longing for familial connection juxtaposed with the reality of emotional estrangement speaks volumes about the intricate dynamics of migrant families. The fantasy of returning to a warm embrace is tempered by an honest acknowledgment of the difficulties in rekindling bonds.
Faith and Purpose:
Your reliance on spiritual guidance offers clarity and grounding, guiding your decisions in alignment with your values. The scriptural reference to thriving in exile is particularly poignant, underscoring a sense of divine purpose in staying where you are.
Reality vs. Fantasy:
The candid distinction between the idealized version of "homecoming" and the likely reality is a sobering yet necessary perspective. It prevents disillusionment and sets a realistic foundation for future choices.
The Role of Found Families:
The relationships you’ve cultivated with your sister and friends illustrate the strength and importance of chosen families, especially for those who do not have traditional familial structures due to circumstances like sexuality.
Pragmatic Considerations:
Your detailed evaluation of life in your current country versus the old country reflects a clear and rational thought process:
Health and Aging: Your access to reliable healthcare, healthy habits, and conducive environments for fitness is a major consideration, especially given age-related vulnerabilities.
Lifestyle: The contrast between libraries, nature trails, and utilities points to the convenience and stability of your current life.
Community Support: The emotional and practical support you provide to your sister and friends forms a compelling reason to stay, grounded in empathy and responsibility.
Conclusion:
Your narrative suggests that staying in your adopted country aligns most closely with your values, needs, and the reality of your life circumstances. It recognizes that a return to the homeland, while romanticized, may not provide the fulfillment or stability you currently enjoy. Instead, cherishing and nurturing the "family" you have built, alongside embracing the opportunities and comforts available to you, appears to be the path most aligned with your faith, reasoning, and reality.
This decision is not without sacrifice, but it is imbued with wisdom and a profound understanding of what truly matters: connection, purpose, and peace.
2024-11-24 14:42:23
popong
Popong 12 / Meditation on Computer Obsession
Popong 12
Yesterday was intense. I spent the entire day at the computer, overly excited about my work, and by the time night came, I was still buzzing with energy. It felt like stress, and it wasn’t good for me. I need to avoid repeating that. The extra coffee—especially late at night—didn’t help either.
Since I retired, I’ve become more aware of how my mind works. I have to pace myself. There’s no reason to push too hard, especially on tasks that lead nowhere. Yesterday, I kept repeating the same steps, getting the same results. Sure, I was learning, but it wasn’t productive. Now, it’s 5 AM, and I’m still wired. This isn’t what I want as I age. It felt like I was a kid with a new toy, only the toy was the freedom to do what I love. But I can’t forget my health—it’s too important. Yesterday’s frenzy was like drinking too much or letting stress take over.
So, what should I have done differently? I had planned to go to the library in the afternoon to read, which would’ve been more relaxing. Reading calms me, unlike the strain of programming, which reminded me of my college days when I tried switching careers after burning out from work. Back then, the stress made sense. Things didn’t work out, though, and I stayed in the same profession out of job insecurity. Now, with retirement close and a steady income from social security and rental properties, I can finally leave behind the pressures of the past.
But retirement hasn’t been as smooth as I expected. Social Security stopped my payments because I exceeded their earnings limit. And my workplace hasn’t found a replacement for me yet. I feel guilty leaving because the department depends on me, so I’ve stayed to help out. With the facility’s conditions, pay, and location, it’s been tough finding someone to take over. I’ve been there for over seven years, not because I couldn’t find something better, but because it gave me a reason to get out of the house.
What happened yesterday is a reminder of the importance of balance. I got so absorbed in my project that I sat at my desk all day and into the night, exactly what I should avoid. I’m tempted to have another cup of coffee now, but I know better. I reinstalled Ubuntu earlier and almost got pulled into watching the process again, something I really need to resist. Fixing computer glitches is fun, but it’s not healthy to indulge in that obsession. It starts to feel like “Waiting for Godot.”
Recognizing my limits is the first step toward a better life. It’s okay to fail sometimes. It’s not the end of the world. Why live as if it is? What’s the difference between being dead and sitting in a chair, lost in a task that shuts out the world? In both cases, I’m absent from life. Why let that happen before it’s my time?
I need to approach life more thoughtfully, as I reminded myself yesterday. Focus on activities that bring the most reward. I made some progress on my website (not perfect, but functional) and posted some exercise videos on YouTube. A few of them got over 100 views and 10 likes, which was satisfying. But then I got sidetracked with my old computer, trying to redo a project, and everything spiraled. I wasted the entire afternoon and evening on something pointless, and in the end, I was too excited to sleep. The worst outcome.
Now, I’m recovering from lost sleep and energy. I’ll probably skip my daily walk again, as I did yesterday. I’m not sure how today’s meals will go either. It’s still morning, and I’m already on my second coffee—after drinking some at midnight. This disruption is too much, and I need to prevent it from happening again.
Life is fragile and short. If I invest too much time in activities that don’t benefit me or cause harm, it’s better to move on to something healthier and more peaceful. This is especially true as I age, with weaker immunity and vulnerability to illness. What I did yesterday scares me. I just got a call from my brother-in-law—my sister is back in the hospital with a possible UTI, something she deals with often because of diabetes.
Taking risks with my health, like I did by obsessing over computer work and losing sleep, is a mistake. It disrupts my peace and routine, and puts unnecessary stress on my body. I might visit my sister later today, but right now I’m too tired. It’s clear I need to be more mindful of my choices and avoid pushing myself too far.
---
I’ve finally let go of my obsession with computer operating systems. There’s no point in it. What do I gain from installing and reinstalling an OS, just because it’s challenging but without yielding any real knowledge? It’s nothing like coding, where I can create something beautiful, or reading a book that sparks new ideas or beautifully expresses old ones.
I went to bed as early as I could, but ended up tossing and turning. My eczema flared up again, maybe because of the butter or eggs I indulged in after work. I was doing so well controlling it, but not last night.
I needed to get out of bed. Staying there without sleep only makes it worse. I’m used to having coffee at this hour, which is terrible since it stole my sleep the night before. This time, I’ll stick to herbal tea.
---
Today was busier than usual. I was called to work at two places, and it hit me—I’m ready for a change. But change comes with obstacles. I’m waiting for the freedom that will let me break away from this daily grind. I’m looking forward to a better Friday, though I might be called in to work for an hour or so at a facility. Otherwise, the next three days are mine, and I’m excited about the possibilities. I have a lot to work on—exercise, computer projects, gardening. But for now, I’ll have a talk with the Lord. It’s the end of a heavy day, and I’m alone—but not really alone. God is here, always ready to listen, and I want to talk.
I’m learning that stress-free relaxation time is becoming more valuable to me.
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The bad days have caught up with me. Despite extra sleep, work has worn me down. I have a sore throat and allergies, a reminder of how old age is creeping in. What matters now is focusing on what brings me joy and fulfillment.
I’ve been looking forward to today because my new PC tower is arriving from Amazon. I’m also excited to fix the Ubuntu installation on my old computer. This gives me purpose. I plan to set up a LAMP stack on the new system, which will keep me busy and fulfilled. I’m also heading to the library to read, like I did last week. The library is peaceful and helps me focus far better than the distractions of my room.
At times, I wonder why I keep working when I could easily stop. But there are reasons: my old workplace still can’t find a replacement, and the new place is so close and convenient that it doesn’t feel like a burden. It’s not about the money anymore; it’s about helping others. And if I happen to earn something, why not? I could use it to travel. Maybe Miami, or a nearby getaway. A change of scenery wouldn’t hurt, though I can’t go far because my sister needs me in emergencies. That’s manageable now, as long as she calls during daylight hours. Night driving, especially in the rain, is too stressful at my age.
These little comforts I allow myself, and I no longer feel the need to complain. God has provided everything I need.
Today is a day I’m looking forward to—not because it will be easy, but because it will be filled with work I want to do. That’s what matters. Money and material things don’t bring happiness. I learned that through experience. What makes me happy is simple: reading a good book, talking with God, or getting lost in a task that makes the rest of the world fade away. That’s the life I’m shaping with my free will—a life built around my own desires and plans.
I also have stories waiting to be written, and I’m excited to write them. I’ve formed warm connections with a few regulars at the park, many of whom are homeless. I don’t discriminate—I talk with everyone. I’ve worked with the indigent before, so it’s nothing new. They’re not so different from the people I encounter in the nursing home.
Now, I have other important plans—reading, writing, programming. Life is about balance and making the most of what I have.
I know I can’t rely on wealth, material abundance, or a large social circle—things that Caesar’s world values. I prefer God’s kingdom, where possessions don’t matter. What matters are the heart and soul, which need daily care, like plants reaching for light. That’s where my focus needs to be.
These small material joys—like the new PC tower I’m awaiting—are nice, but it’s not the object itself that excites me. It’s what I can create with it. Much like a child with a new toy or a dog with a bone, it’s natural to feel joy over something new, but I know that joy will fade as soon as I finish my project. Then, like all the other material things in my life, it will be set aside.
I’ve experienced this many times. Like when I visited Manila after years of being away, only to find myself longing to return home after just a month. The same happened on other trips, especially those I took with Matt. His company made the trips better, but they were never as fulfilling as I imagined
. Eventually, I always wanted to return home.
As I’ve said before, only my connection with the Lord brings me lasting joy. That’s my true home, where happiness endures. I think that’s what hermits and monks mean by “the real deal”—a happiness untouched by material things, nourished by the soul. But, of course, there’s also the simple joy of a good cup of coffee, LOL.
I’ll head out for a walk in the park soon. It’s been two or three days since I exercised, thanks to my obsession with the computer, and the bad weather.
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I finished my 4-mile walk, and it felt good to be outdoors again. The morning clouds were beautiful, and I greeted a few of the homeless around the Ficus tree, as well as some dog walkers who have become familiar faces. It’s a simple courtesy, just to avoid seeming aloof. Honestly, I’d rather walk without engaging anyone, so I can focus on my own thoughts.
2024-09-14 00:20:13
popong
Popong 12 / Meditation on Computer Obsession